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trappedbetweentwo

utterlyhopeful-fics

Aug 2

fanficwritinggirl

{Occupied - Jake Seresin x F!Reader}

Summary - One charity gala. One argument. One kiss that was long overdue.

Word Count - 6500ish

Warnings: 18+, smut, explicit sexual content, explicit language, rivals to lovers, mutual pining, jealousy, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, protected sex, public bathroom sex, risk of being caught, consent, possessive behaviour, fluff, happy ending.

Occupied

The first thing Phoenix said when you stepped out of the hotel lift was, “Oh, Seresin is going to be unbearable.”

You stopped halfway into the corridor, one hand curled around the tiny clutch Bob had already pointed out could barely hold your phone.

“Good evening to you too.”

“I’m serious.” Natasha caught your wrist and turned you beneath the warm hotel lights, inspecting the dark dress you had spent far too long convincing yourself was appropriate for a formal squadron charity gala. “You look incredible.”

The compliment softened you more than you wanted it to.

“Thank you.”

Bob smiled beside her. “You do.”

His eyes widened as the words left him.

“I mean, the dress is nice. You look nice in it. Not that you don’t usually look nice.”

Phoenix rescued him before he could dig any deeper.

“She knows what you mean, Bob.”

“I do.” You slipped your arm through his. “And I appreciate it.”

The ballroom doors stood open at the end of the corridor, spilling music and conversation into the hotel. Uniformed personnel mingled with civilian guests beneath chandeliers that looked expensive enough to finance an entire training exercise.

You had barely crossed the threshold when Phoenix leaned closer.

“He’s staring.”

You knew exactly who she meant.

You refused to look.

“He’s probably checking whether my dress violates regulations.”

Bob glanced across the ballroom with considerably less subtlety.

“He did ask whether you were coming tonight.”

Your steps faltered.

Phoenix’s mouth curved.

You recovered quickly. “Probably so he could prepare himself.”

“He asked twice,” she added.

“He was confirming the threat level.”

Bob looked between you and wherever Jake was standing. “Is that why he remembers the date of that training exercise?”

You finally turned your head.

Jake Seresin stood on the opposite side of the ballroom in his service dress blues, one hand wrapped around a glass while an officer you vaguely recognised spoke beside him.

He should have been listening.

He wasn’t.

His eyes were fixed on you.

For once, the distance between you prevented him from hiding the first unguarded reaction that crossed his face. His gaze travelled slowly over the dress before returning to your face, lingering as though he had forgotten someone was speaking to him.

Then he noticed you watching.

The corner of his mouth lifted.

There he was.

You looked away first.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you told Bob.

Phoenix gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm. “You’ll learn not to ask.”

The three of you had only made it halfway to your assigned table when Jake appeared beside you.

You had not seen him cross the room.

That happened often. Jake had a remarkable talent for turning up wherever you were while insisting you were the one who could not leave him alone.

His gaze dropped over you again, less openly this time.

“Well,” he said. “Look at you.”

You waited.

The compliment did not come.

Jake’s smile widened when he realised you were expecting one.

“You finally found something without a flight-suit zipper.”

You should have known better.

“And you almost look respectable when you keep your mouth closed.”

Bob made a quiet noise that might have been a laugh disguised as a cough.

Jake placed a hand over his chest. “Almost?”

“The tie ruins it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my tie.”

“Besides the man wearing it?”

Phoenix took your clutch from Bob and steered him towards the table.

“We’re sitting down before one of them challenges the other to a dogfight over the appetisers.”

Jake watched them leave, then looked back at you.

“You’re still bitter.”

“About what?”

“That exercise.”

You laughed. “The one I won?”

“The one where I underestimated you.”

“You’ve had eight months to come up with a better excuse.”

Jake leaned closer, bringing the clean scent of his cologne with him.

“You remember exactly how long it’s been too, sweetheart.”

“Only because you mention it every week.”

“That’s because you’ve built your entire personality around one lucky win.”

“One?”

His eyes lit up.

It was ridiculous how much he enjoyed this. He could spend an entire briefing needling you until you wanted to strangle him, then look delighted when you finally snapped back.

The first few months after you joined the squadron, you had genuinely believed Jake disliked you.

Somewhere along the way, the arguments had begun lasting longer than the things that started them.

You stepped around him.

“Go bother someone who still finds you charming.”

His fingers brushed your bare elbow as you passed.

“You think I’m charming?”

You turned to walk backwards for several steps. “I think you need your hearing checked.”

Jake watched you return to Phoenix and Bob with an expression that made warmth creep beneath your skin.

Phoenix waited until you sat down.

“You know, most people just flirt.”

“We don’t flirt.”

“No,” she agreed. “You make everyone around you feel as though they’re trapped inside a mating ritual narrated by David Attenborough.”

Bob looked concerned. “Are we meant to intervene?”

“No,” you and Phoenix said together.

Dinner passed in courses too small to justify the number of forks arranged beside each plate.

Jake was not seated beside you. It should have made the evening more peaceful.

Instead, you kept noticing him.

He moved easily between conversations, smiling at senior officers, charming donors, and somehow looking entirely at home beneath the glittering chandeliers. Every so often, his attention drifted back towards your table.

You caught him twice.

The third time, he did not look away.

His gaze dropped to your mouth.

The room seemed to blur around the edges.

For one unwelcome moment, you were back outside the Hard Deck three weeks earlier.

The air had been warm and heavy with salt. Music had pulsed through the walls behind you while Jake stood close enough that the toes of his boots almost touched yours.

You had gone outside because he had accused you of cheating at pool. He had followed because apparently he had no survival instincts.

The argument had slowly disappeared.

Jake’s smirk had faded. His voice had gone quiet. His eyes had fallen to your lips, and you had stopped breathing because you knew exactly what was about to happen.

The door opened behind him.

Rooster called both your names.

Jake laughed.

Not because anything was funny. You knew that now, or at least suspected it. But humiliation had burned through you. You told him he was imagining things if he thought you had been waiting for him to kiss you, then walked inside before he could answer.

Neither of you had mentioned it since.

You looked away from him now and reached for your glass.

Phoenix noticed.

She noticed everything.

Thankfully, she said nothing.

Jake appeared at your table shortly after dessert, placing a fresh drink beside you without asking.

You looked at it, then at him.

“Did I order this?”

“No.”

“Then why is it here?”

“You finished the other one.”

“You were keeping track?”

Jake pulled out the empty chair beside you and sat. “Hard not to. You’ve been glaring at me over the rim of it for twenty minutes.”

“I wasn’t glaring.”

“Staring, then.”

“Dream on.”

His knee brushed yours beneath the table.

Neither of you moved.

Bob was telling Phoenix about a radar malfunction during training. You should have listened. Instead, you were painfully aware of the firm line of Jake’s thigh against your own.

His fingers rested loosely around his glass.

“You planning on dancing tonight?” he asked.

You glanced towards the dance floor. “Maybe.”

“With who?”

You turned slowly. “Why?”

“No reason.”

“That sounded suspiciously like a reason.”

Jake lifted one shoulder. “Just wondering who I’ll have to rescue from having their toes crushed.”

“I’m an excellent dancer.”

“You fly like you’re trying to kill the aircraft. Forgive me for making assumptions.”

“I fly better than you.”

“One time.”

“Eight months, Jake.”

“There it is again.”

Before you could answer, a man stopped beside your chair.

Lieutenant Cole belonged to another squadron on base. You had spoken to him several times in passing. He was pleasant, handsome, and currently smiling at you without disguising the fact that he found you attractive.

“Would you like to dance?”

Jake went very still beside you.

You looked at him.

His expression was easy. Almost bored.

Only the muscle tightening in his jaw gave him away.

You smiled at Cole and placed your hand in his.

“I’d love to.”

Cole led you towards the dance floor.

You told yourself you accepted because he seemed nice. Because you had spent the evening sitting down. Because Jake Seresin did not get to decide who you danced with.

You certainly had not accepted because some childish part of you wanted to see whether Jake would react.

Cole’s hand settled politely at your waist.

You tried to focus on the conversation. He asked about your squadron. You asked about his upcoming deployment. He was funny in a quieter way than Jake, without the sharpened edge that made every exchange feel like a competition.

You should have enjoyed it.

Instead, your gaze kept drifting over his shoulder.

Jake had turned his chair towards the dance floor.

He was watching you.

Not casually. Not with his usual amused detachment.

His eyes tracked Cole’s hand on your waist. His mouth flattened whenever you smiled. He looked so openly displeased that satisfaction curled low in your stomach.

Phoenix followed his stare.

She leaned towards Bob.

“Here we go.”

Bob looked between them. “Where are we going?”

“Give it five minutes.”

The song ended.

Cole asked whether you wanted another.

You might have agreed if Jake had not been standing at the edge of the dance floor, waiting.

“I should get back,” you said.

Cole smiled and released you. “Maybe later?”

“Maybe.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed.

He waited until Cole was out of earshot.

“Nice guy.”

You started walking towards the table. “He is.”

“A little dull.”

“You spoke to him for approximately four seconds.”

“Didn’t need longer.”

“You’re threatened by anyone who can hold a conversation without mentioning himself?”

Jake fell into step beside you. “Threatened?”

“Is there another word for whatever that was?”

“I was watching you dance.”

“Yes. I noticed.”

His mouth curved. “You noticed me noticing.”

You stopped near a pillar at the edge of the ballroom.

“Not everything I do revolves around you.”

“Could’ve fooled me, sweetheart.”

Heat flared across your face.

Jake saw it and mistook the reason.

“You checked whether I was watching every thirty seconds.”

“And you were watching every time.”

“Maybe I was worried about your feet.”

“You are unbelievable.”

“You liked knowing I was looking.”

You stared at him.

The worst part was that he was right.

The even worse part was that he seemed pleased rather than affected. As though this was still only a game to him. As though the moment outside the Hard Deck meant nothing. As though he had not asked Bob twice whether you would be here.

“You don’t get to do that.”

Jake’s smile faded. “Do what?”

“Act jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Right.”

“I’m not.”

“Then stop behaving like I needed your permission to dance with him.”

“I never said you needed permission.”

“No. You just insulted him because he touched me.”

Jake stepped closer. “He had his hand all over you.”

“It was on my waist.”

“I saw where it was.”

You laughed once, without humour.

“You have spent eight months pretending you can barely stand me. You do not get to suddenly decide you care who touches me.”

Something shifted in his expression.

You did not stay long enough to examine it.

You turned and walked away.

Phoenix caught Jake’s sleeve as he started after you.

“Don’t.”

He looked down at her hand. “Don’t what?”

“Whatever you’re about to do.”

“I’m finishing the conversation.”

“You were losing the conversation.”

“I don’t lose.”

Phoenix glanced towards the corridor where you had disappeared.

“That attitude is exactly why she left.”

Jake freed his sleeve carefully. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bob watched him go.

“Should one of us check on her?”

Phoenix picked up her drink.

“Absolutely not.”

The private bathroom was halfway down a quiet corridor outside the ballroom.

You slipped inside, shut the door, and placed both hands on the edge of the marble sink.

Your reflection looked as irritated as you felt.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered.

Jake was ridiculous.

You were worse.

You accepted the dance because you wanted his attention, then became angry when he gave it to you in the most Jake-like way possible. He had never promised you anything. He had never even kissed you.

Nearly kissing did not count.

The door opened behind you.

You closed your eyes.

“Get out.”

Jake stepped inside and shut the door.

“No.”

“This is a bathroom.”

“I’m aware.”

“You cannot follow women into bathrooms.”

“It’s single occupancy.”

“That is not the point.”

“You walked away.”

“Because the argument was over.”

Jake leaned back against the closed door, arms folded over his chest.

“You don’t get to decide that alone.”

You stared at him through the mirror. “You genuinely believe every conversation requires your permission to end.”

“Did you want me to be jealous?”

You turned.

“Why does that matter?”

“Because you still haven’t answered.”

“You didn’t answer me either.”

“I told you I wasn’t.”

“And we both know you were lying.”

His jaw shifted.

“You do this all the time,” you continued. “You find me, you start something, and then the second it becomes remotely real, you laugh.”

Jake’s brows drew together. “What are you talking about?”

“The Hard Deck.”

Recognition moved across his face.

“You nearly kissed me,” you said. “Then you laughed and spent three weeks acting like it never happened.”

“You walked away.”

“Because you laughed.”

“The door opened.”

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

Jake dragged a hand over his mouth.

“I didn’t know what the hell else to do.”

A surprised laugh escaped you. “You?”

“Yes, me.”

“Jake Seresin panicked?”

“Enjoy the moment. It’s not happening again.”

“You could have spoken to me.”

“You told me I was imagining it.”

“Because you made it seem like a joke.”

“Because Rooster walked outside right when I was about to kiss you.”

“So?”

“So I panicked.”

The admission came out almost angrily.

You folded your arms. “You’ve been treating me like this since long before the Hard Deck.”

“Like what?”

“Like you care until I notice.”

His expression tightened.

“After the hydraulic failure, everyone else asked whether I needed a medic. You found me sitting outside the hangar and stayed there for almost an hour.”

“You were shaking.”

“And the next morning, you acted like it meant nothing.”

“You didn’t want them hovering.”

“You were hovering.”

“I was sitting six feet away.”

“You brought me coffee.”

“You hate the vending-machine coffee.”

“You remember how I take it.”

Jake’s mouth opened.

You did not let him interrupt.

“And when I cleaned that cut above your eyebrow, you couldn’t let five quiet minutes pass without making some stupid joke about me trying to get you out of your shirt.”

“You were trying to get me out of my shirt.”

“There.” You pointed at him. “That. Every time something might mean anything, you turn it into this.”

“Because you make it impossible to know what you want.”

“You could have asked.”

“You argue with everything I say.”

“You’re always the one who finds me first.”

The words settled between you.

Jake looked at you in a way that made your heartbeat stumble.

“That’s because I’m always looking for you.”

There was no smirk this time.

No teasing edge.

Your arms slowly fell to your sides.

Jake stepped closer.

“I followed you outside the Hard Deck because I wanted to be alone with you.”

“You could have said that.”

“I’m saying it now.”

“You’re three weeks late.”

“I know.”

He stopped directly in front of you.

The music from the ballroom was barely audible through the walls, reduced to a distant pulse beneath the silence.

Jake’s gaze lowered to your mouth.

“Would you have let me kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His eyes returned to yours.

“Would you let me now?”

You caught the front of his jacket and pushed him backwards.

Jake struck the sink with a surprised breath just before your mouth met his.

For half a second, he did nothing.

Then his hands closed around your waist.

He kissed you back with every bit of frustration you had carried for eight months, dragging you closer until your body fitted against his. The kiss was hard and messy, teeth catching, breath breaking, all the anger between you turning hot enough to burn.

Your fingers tightened in his jacket.

Jake’s hand spread over your lower back.

He turned you without breaking the kiss, reversing your positions until the edge of the sink pressed into you.

The door handle moved faintly as someone passed in the corridor.

You tore your mouth from his.

“Lock it.”

Jake’s eyes searched yours.

“Now.”

He crossed the room and turned the lock.

The click sounded unnaturally loud.

When he faced you again, the humour had vanished from his expression.

You caught his tie and pulled him back.

Jake’s mouth crashed into yours.

Your hand slid down between your bodies.

His breath caught sharply.

The clever remark forming against your lips died before it ever became words. His body tensed beneath your touch, his hands gripping the sink on either side of you.

You slowed deliberately.

Jake’s eyes opened.

“Tease.”

“You deserve it.”

Your hand moved again.

His head dipped, forehead pressing briefly against yours as his breathing grew rougher. You kissed along his jaw, feeling the muscle jump beneath your lips.

He was hard beneath your hand, every slow stroke making his grip tighten on the marble. His hips shifted almost involuntarily, following the movement before he caught himself.

The tiny loss of control sent a rush of satisfaction through you.

You brushed your mouth along the line beneath his ear.

“So quiet now.”

Jake turned his face towards yours.

The look in his eyes should have warned you.

Instead, you tightened your hand.

His breath broke against your lips.

Voices passed through the corridor.

Both of you stilled.

Jake’s hand closed around your hip, holding you firmly against him. Your fingers remained wrapped around him, though you eased the pressure.

The voices paused somewhere nearby.

You felt every sharp breath he tried to suppress.

“Stop?” you whispered.

“No.”

The answer came low and immediate.

The footsteps moved away.

Your hand resumed its slow rhythm.

Jake’s head fell forward, mouth brushing your shoulder. You felt the quiet sound he made more than heard it, warm against your skin.

His fingers tightened around your waist.

You kissed the corner of his mouth, then his jaw again, deliberately unhurried now that you knew exactly what it did to him.

Jake let you have control for longer than you expected.

Long enough for the muscles in his stomach to tense beneath your other hand.

Long enough for his composure to fray into uneven breaths and rough sounds swallowed against your mouth.

Long enough that you began to wonder whether he might actually let you finish him there against the sink.

Then his hand closed around your wrist.

Firm.

Final.

You looked up at him.

His chest rose sharply beneath his uniform.

“My turn.”

He turned you towards the mirror, pressing close behind you.

Your palms landed against the marble.

Jake’s mouth moved over your shoulder while his hands travelled down your sides. He gathered the dress slowly, exposing more of your thighs by inches, drawing the moment out until you could barely hold still.

You met his eyes in the reflection.

His fingers slipped between your legs.

The first touch stole your breath.

Jake watched your lips part.

A slow, satisfied smile returned.

“Already?”

You gripped the edge of the sink.

“Shut up.”

His hand moved again.

The words dissolved in your throat.

Jake’s mouth brushed your ear.

“That wet for me?”

You tried to glare at him through the mirror.

His fingers pressed more firmly.

Your head tipped back against his shoulder.

“Thought so.”

You turned your face and caught his mouth.

The kiss became messy almost instantly.

Your hand reached behind you, finding him again. Jake groaned into your mouth, the sound muffled between you as his fingers continued their slow, deliberate work.

The bathroom filled with uneven breathing, the faint rustle of your dress, and the distant music pulsing through the wall.

Neither of you seemed willing to give the other control completely.

Your grip tightened whenever his fingers found the place that made your legs threaten to fold.

His touch became more insistent whenever your hand dragged another broken breath from him.

Jake’s free arm wrapped around your waist, holding you upright as your knees weakened.

His mouth moved down your neck.

You tilted your head, giving him more room.

“Jake.”

His fingers slowed.

“Tell me.”

“Don’t stop.”

The pressure returned immediately.

Your forehead dropped towards the mirror.

Jake caught your chin gently and raised it again.

“Look.”

You met his gaze in the glass.

He watched every reaction while he touched you, his expression losing its teasing edge as your breathing quickened.

Your hand faltered around him.

Jake covered it with his, guiding the movement once before releasing you.

The sight of his hand over yours sent another wave of heat through you.

His eyes darkened as if he knew.

“Keep going.”

You did.

His mouth opened against your shoulder.

The hand between your thighs moved faster.

Pleasure gathered low and tight, sharp enough to make you press your lips together.

Jake recognised it immediately.

“Close?”

You shook your head, though both of you knew you were lying.

His fingers changed angle.

Your body jerked against him.

Jake smiled against your skin.

“Liar.”

You tightened your hand in retaliation.

His smile vanished.

For another breathless stretch, the two of you remained tangled against the sink, each trying to push the other over the edge first.

Jake’s breathing grew rougher.

His hips pressed into your hand.

The pressure inside you tightened until you could feel yourself beginning to lose the contest.

Then Jake caught your wrist again.

You made an irritated sound.

“Not yet.”

He withdrew his other hand, leaving you aching and frustrated.

You turned in his arms.

“Coward.”

Jake’s eyes moved over your face.

“Not even close.”

His hands closed around your waist.

He lifted you onto the marble counter.

The sudden movement sent your shoulders back against the mirror with a soft knock.

Jake froze immediately.

“You good?”

You caught his loosened tie and dragged him into another kiss.

He stepped between your thighs.

The mirror was cool behind you, the marble colder beneath your legs. Jake’s body filled the space in front of you, his immaculate uniform rumpled, your lipstick smeared across his mouth.

You had never seen him look less composed.

You had never wanted him more.

His hands moved beneath your dress.

His fingers hooked into your underwear and drew them slowly down your legs. You lifted your hips, then one foot and the other, barely noticing where he placed them before his mouth was back on yours.

Jake pulled you closer to the edge of the counter.

The hard line of him pressed against you.

You shuddered.

He kissed along your jaw, one hand firm beneath your thigh while the other moved between you again.

The first brush of his fingers made your legs tighten around his hips.

Jake’s eyes lifted to yours.

“Soaked.”

Your face warmed.

“You talk too much.”

“Not what you said five minutes ago.”

You caught his tie and pulled until his mouth met yours.

Jake’s hand continued moving between your thighs, slower than before, using the slickness he found there to draw helpless movements from your body.

Your back pressed against the mirror.

He kissed you deeply while his fingers worked you open, every deliberate movement making the ache inside you sharpen.

You could feel him watching you even when your eyes closed.

The moment you tried to hide your face against his neck, his hand slowed.

“Eyes on me.”

You opened them.

Jake’s gaze held yours.

His fingers pressed deeper.

Your mouth opened on a silent breath.

“There she is.”

You gripped his shoulders.

The mirror gave you nowhere to retreat, reflecting every detail back at you. Jake stood between your spread thighs, tie hanging loose, collar open beneath your hands. Your dress had gathered high around your waist, his fingers disappearing beneath the fabric while he watched your face.

The sight alone nearly pushed you too far.

You reached down for him again.

Jake caught your hand before you could.

“Soon.”

The single word was rough.

His mouth moved to your throat, biting lightly enough to make your back arch.

You dragged your fingers through his hair.

“Jake.”

He lifted his head.

“Please.”

Something changed in his expression.

The teasing disappeared completely.

His hands curved beneath your thighs, drawing you closer until there was no space left between you.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

He searched your face.

“I’m protected,” you whispered. “Implant. No one since before I joined the squadron.”

Jake nodded once.

“Clean. No one since March.”

You wrapped your legs around him.

“Then stop making me wait.”

Jake kissed you as he pressed forward.

The first slow stretch stole every thought from your head.

His body went rigid.

For one suspended moment, neither of you moved.

His forehead rested against yours, breath hot and uneven across your lips.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

Your fingers tightened around his shoulders.

“Move.”

Jake’s eyes closed briefly.

Then he began.

Slowly at first.

Controlled.

The sink shifted faintly beneath you, the small sound almost lost beneath the music beyond the wall. His hands held you securely, one beneath your thigh, the other braced beside your head against the mirror.

Each careful roll of his hips dragged another breath from you.

Jake caught every one against his mouth.

The months of tension made even the smallest movement feel sharpened. Every argument. Every stare across a briefing room. Every time his hand had brushed yours and lingered a second too long.

All of it had led here.

To Jake between your thighs.

To your dress gathered around your waist.

To his mouth moving hungrily against yours while he tried to keep the sink from striking the wall.

You tightened your legs around him.

Jake’s breath broke.

His control slipped for one hard movement before he caught himself again.

It was not enough.

“Jake.”

His mouth moved down your throat.

“Tell me.”

“Harder.”

He lifted his head.

The restraint in his expression snapped.

His next thrust drove you farther back against the mirror.

A sound caught in your throat.

Jake’s palm covered your mouth.

“Quiet.”

You glared at him over his hand.

His hips pressed forward again.

Your eyes fluttered closed.

“Look at me.”

The command was barely more than breath.

You opened them.

Jake’s gaze held yours through the mirror while he moved, watching every change in your face. His uniform grew more disordered beneath your hands, collar open, tie hanging loose between you.

He drew back slowly.

Then pressed deep enough to make your head fall against the glass.

His eyes darkened at the reaction.

You tried to turn your face into his shoulder.

His fingers caught your chin.

“No.”

Your pulse jumped.

“Watch.”

You looked.

The reflection made everything feel even more reckless.

Your legs wrapped tightly around him. His body moved between them, one hand gripping your hip while the other remained braced against the mirror. Your lipstick marked his mouth. His hair had fallen out of place beneath your fingers.

Jake looked nothing like the composed officer who had stood beneath the chandeliers half an hour earlier.

Neither did you.

His pace increased.

The sink knocked softly against the wall.

Once.

Twice.

You bit down on his shoulder to smother the sound threatening to escape.

Jake’s grip tightened.

“Careful.”

You pressed your mouth against the mark you had made.

His hips drove forward harder.

You clung to him.

The slow build from his fingers had left you sensitive enough that every movement now pulled you closer to the edge. The pressure gathered quickly, tightening until your legs began to tremble around him.

Jake saw it in the mirror.

His hand slid between you.

Your head tipped back.

“Jake.”

His thumb moved in slow circles.

The sharp combination made your entire body tense.

“Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to.”

His mouth moved against your ear.

“Wanted this every damn day.”

The confession broke something open inside you.

You pulled him closer, nails scraping lightly over the back of his neck.

“More.”

Jake gave it to you.

His rhythm lost the last of its careful restraint. The mirror knocked behind you with each hard movement, the sound barely contained by the music from the ballroom.

You buried your face against his throat.

Jake’s hand remained between you.

Pleasure wound tighter and tighter until you could no longer separate the drag of his body from the pressure of his fingers.

Your breathing became impossible to control.

Jake covered your mouth with his.

“Quiet for me.”

The door handle rattled.

Both of you froze.

Your eyes flew open.

Someone tried it again.

“Oh, come on,” Rooster complained from outside. “You’ve been in there forever.”

Jake’s forehead dropped against yours.

For one suspended second, neither of you breathed.

You could feel laughter threatening in his chest.

You silently shook your head.

His eyes darkened.

Jake moved again.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders.

He held your gaze as he pressed deeper, the quiet movement dragging a helpless reaction across your face.

Rooster knocked.

“Some of us have been drinking water all night.”

Jake’s pace increased.

Your lips parted.

His hand covered your mouth.

“Occupied,” he called.

His voice sounded almost normal.

The movement of his body did not.

Silence followed outside.

“Hangman?”

Jake drove into you harder.

Your head tipped back against the mirror.

“Go find another bathroom, Bradshaw.”

“What are you even doing in there?”

Jake looked directly into your eyes.

He did not slow.

His thumb pressed harder between you.

Your whole body tightened.

“Stay quiet,” he whispered.

Rooster tried the handle again.

“Seresin, I swear to God.”

Jake’s mouth lowered to your ear.

“Come for me.”

The pressure broke.

Your eyes rolled closed as pleasure tore through you, sharp enough to steal every thought. Jake covered your mouth with his, swallowing the sound that escaped despite your efforts.

Your body clenched around him.

His grip tightened beneath your thigh, holding you securely while he kept moving, drawing the sensation out until your legs trembled around his waist.

Outside, Rooster muttered something about finding Phoenix.

His footsteps finally retreated.

Jake broke the kiss.

His control was gone.

You pulled him closer, nails scraping lightly over the back of his neck.

His face disappeared against your shoulder.

One final broken movement drove him deep, his entire body tightening as a rough sound left him against your skin.

You felt the shudder run through him.

Then the warmth of him as he finished inside you.

Jake stayed there, arms locked around you, breath ragged against your throat.

For several seconds, neither of you moved.

The distant music drifted through the wall.

Your fingers moved slowly through the short hair at the back of his head.

His hold loosened gradually, though he did not step away.

“Still hate me?” he murmured.

You turned your mouth against his temple.

“Ask me after round two.”

A breathless laugh warmed your skin.

Jake lifted his head and searched your face.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

His thumb brushed beneath your eye.

“Sure?”

You kissed him softly.

“I’m sure.”

He remained close for another moment before carefully stepping back.

Cold air replaced his warmth.

Jake helped you down from the counter, keeping both hands around your waist when your knees proved less reliable than expected.

You looked at your reflection.

The evidence was everywhere.

Your lipstick had almost disappeared. Jake wore the missing colour across his mouth. His hair was disordered, collar open, tie hanging crookedly.

You fixed the tie with unsteady fingers.

Jake watched you in the mirror, hands still resting on your hips.

You wiped the lipstick from his mouth with your thumb.

Then you began looking around.

Nothing sat on the counter except your clutch.

You glanced towards the floor.

The space beneath the sink was empty.

Jake leaned one hip against the marble, watching you with far too much interest.

You checked behind your leg.

Then beneath the edge of your dress.

“What are you looking for?”

You straightened slowly.

“You know exactly what I’m looking for.”

Jake’s expression remained perfectly innocent.

“Do I?”

“My underwear.”

He looked towards the counter as though he might be searching too.

“Strange.”

“Jake.”

You crouched slightly to look beneath the sink again, although you already knew they were not there.

Behind you, Jake made a thoughtful noise.

“Oh. These?”

You turned.

He held them loosely from one finger.

Your eyes narrowed.

“Give them to me.”

Jake looked at them, then back at you.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to keep these.”

“You cannot be serious.”

He folded them once and slipped them into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Very.”

“I still have to go back into that ballroom.”

“I know.”

The quiet satisfaction in his voice sent another wave of heat through you.

You stepped towards him.

“Jake.”

“My place after this.”

“You already secured that.”

“Then I’m keeping the souvenir.”

You reached for his jacket.

Jake caught your wrist and drew you against him.

“That dress looks better without them.”

“You’re insufferable.”

His mouth brushed yours.

“You like me.”

“That remains under review.”

Jake kissed you once, slow and deep enough to make your irritation slip.

When he released you, you tightened his tie unnecessarily hard.

He smiled.

“You’re going to regret this when Phoenix notices.”

“Phoenix noticed before I followed you in here.”

“That is probably true.”

Jake unlocked the door and checked the corridor.

“Clear.”

You moved past him.

His fingers caught yours briefly.

“Two minutes.”

“Fix your hair.”

“You messed it up.”

“Consider it revenge.”

You returned to the ballroom alone.

Phoenix looked up the moment you approached the table.

Her eyes narrowed.

Bob stood automatically and pulled out your chair.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine.”

“You look warm.”

Phoenix studied your face. “She does.”

“I’m fine.”

Bob immediately passed you a glass of water.

You took it because your throat was dry and because holding something gave your hands a purpose.

Phoenix’s gaze moved to your missing lipstick.

Then to the empty space where Jake had been.

Then back to you.

She said nothing.

You loved her for it.

Bob sat beside her.

“Did you and Hangman finish the argument?”

You drank half the water.

“Something like that.”

Phoenix’s mouth twitched.

Two minutes later, Jake walked back into the ballroom.

He had fixed his hair.

His tie remained slightly crooked.

You looked at him.

Phoenix saw you look at him.

Across the table, Rooster stopped speaking mid-sentence.

His eyes followed Jake all the way to the empty chair beside you.

“You.”

Jake sat down. “Me.”

“You were in the bathroom.”

“Excellent work, detective.”

“For ages.”

Jake reached for his drink. “You timing me now, Bradshaw?”

Rooster looked from him to you.

You lifted the water glass to your mouth.

Bob glanced between all three of you. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said.

“Plumbing issue,” Jake added.

Rooster stared.

Phoenix lowered her face towards her drink. Her shoulders moved once.

Jake’s hand settled on your thigh beneath the table.

You nearly spilled your water.

He kept his attention on Rooster, appearing entirely engaged in whatever accusation followed.

His thumb moved slowly against your bare skin.

The fact that nothing rested between you and the dress made even that light touch feel far too intense.

You placed your hand over his and squeezed hard enough to warn him.

Jake turned his palm beneath yours and linked your fingers.

The gesture was almost sweet.

Then his hand moved higher.

You kicked his ankle.

His mouth twitched.

Phoenix leaned towards you from the opposite side.

“Do you need rescuing?”

Jake’s hand became still.

You glanced at him.

He was pretending not to listen, but his eyes had shifted towards you.

A small smile tugged at your mouth.

“No.”

Phoenix followed your gaze.

Understanding settled across her face.

“Didn’t think so.”

She returned to her conversation with Bob without another question.

Jake’s hand relaxed against your thigh.

You leaned closer.

“Behave.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“We are surrounded by people we work with.”

“Didn’t bother you twenty minutes ago.”

Your face warmed.

Jake’s mouth brushed your ear.

“Save your voice, sweetheart.”

A shiver moved through you.

“You’re going to need it later.”

You turned your head. “One bathroom encounter does not erase eight months of you being unbearable.”

“You can give me the complete list at my place.”

“That could take hours.”

“Good.”

His eyes dropped to your mouth.

“We’ve got time.”

The remainder of the event passed slowly.

Jake did not return your underwear.

He did, however, keep one hand on your thigh beneath the table whenever nobody was looking, as though he needed the reassurance that you were still there.

When the speeches ended and guests began collecting coats, Bob offered to arrange a car.

“I can call one for the three of us.”

Jake appeared beside you, jacket folded over one arm.

“I’m taking her home.”

You looked at him.

“I’m going to his place.”

Bob blinked.

Phoenix did not.

“Oh,” Bob said.

Rooster, passing behind him, made a strangled noise.

Phoenix hugged you before you could examine either reaction too closely.

“Text me tomorrow.”